Breathing in the crisp morning air, Rose smiled to herself as she walked along the shore, admiring the beauty of the scenery she still found breathtaking after so many years spent in Moybeg.
Glancing at her watch, she saw it was was only 6:54 am, that in her haste to see Ron again she'd arrived a little early. These morning walks were something of a routine for Rose, so Michael hadn't so much as batted an eyelid when she'd hopped out of bed at 6:30 and told him, through his sleep addled haze, that she'd be back soon. Michael never was a morning person, not like Rose, she loved nothing more than rising before the sun to see it rise over the beautiful vista she now called home.
"Rose," a voice with a distinctly American twang called softly behind her. Turning she saw Ron's smiling face cut through the twilight of the dawn.
"Good morning," Rose said tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, all the while using every ounce of restraint she possessed to keep a safe distance, and stop herself from wrapping her arms around him. "We should probably keep walking, just in case..."
Ron nodded. "Just make it look like we just ran into each other."
Falling into an easy rhythm beside each other they walked, pausing for occasional glances at the coastline.
"Did you have a good Christmas?" Ron asked.
"I did," Rose nodded. "It's a day for the children really, and they loved it, so..."
There was an awkwardness between them, one Rose hadn't felt since before the night they'd dramatically declared their true feelings for each other on the dark road. She silently prayed that Ron hadn't reconsidered things and changed his mind about them, or indeed her.
"Rose, I..." Ron spoke and Rose stopped to look at him, bracing herself for the worst; biting her lip so hard she thought it might bleed. "I hope you haven't….reconsidered this...us. I know you've spent Christmas day with your family and everything we said may seem silly now, so-"
Rose cut him off, "No! Gosh no, not at all!" She studied his face. "That is unless you have..."
"No! No, absolutely not! I just want to make sure is all."
"OK," Rose said.
"OK," Ron replied, before reaching his hand to brush his fingers discreetly over hers. "I really want to kiss you right now."
"I really want you to kiss me right now," Rose said, finding to her surprise that her words were laced with a hint of desperation. Their gazes met and seconds ticked by before Rose snapped out of her romantic haze.
"We should probably keep walking…" she said turning and stepping forward, Ron following by her side.
"Did you speak to your family yesterday? On the telephone I mean," Rose asked.
"I did," Ron nodded. "My father and my sister," he paused. "My mother died 3 years ago now."
"I'm sorry."
Ron shrugged. "She'd been ill for a while… I wish she'd been alive to see me make Captain though, she'd have been proud I think."
"Of course," Rose agreed. Walking they fell into an easy silence, stopping when Rose paused to glance towards the shore. Again she felt the sensation of Ron's fingers brush against her own.
"I'm afraid I won't be able to see you too much between now and New Year's, being the time of year, Michael will be around more and I won't be able to get away…"
"I understand."
"I will be able to get away for my morning walk though, so if you're able, I could meet you here? I know it's not much, but it's all I can manage right now."
"I would like that," Ron said, and Rose could hear the smile in his voice. His fingers inched even closer to hers and she felt them wrap gently around her own, her heart rate picking up in response.
"I love you," Rose spoke earnestly.
"I love you too," Ron replied, squeezing Rose's hand and electing butterflies in her stomach.
Slipping her hand from his, Rose turned and walked away, looking back over her shoulder at Captain Dreyfuss's handsome figure to ask, "Same time tomorrow?"
He nodded in reply, giving Rose warm smile that would linger in her mind and help her through the day.
Rose continued her morning meetings with Ron for the next week. Although they shared nothing more than the brief touches of hands, she lived for their stolen dawn moments together. While they may have not had much time to spend together, every second felt meaningful. They discussed a wide range of topics, including work and family, and sometimes admitting to thoughts and feelings they'd had during their early encounters. It was during one such discussion that Rose had bashfully made a confession.
"Do you remember the button you lost?", she said, her gaze fixed on the horizon, too embarrassed to turn and face Ron as he walked by her side.
"I do."
"Well I found it here, the next morning after we met," she confessed. "When I'd gone walking that morning I think in truth I'd hoped to find you here again, I even found myself lingering longer than usual in the hope that you'd appear." Rose shock her head and raised a hand to her blushing cheek. "But you didn't, so when I found your button I...kept it. I tucked it away in the draw of my dressing table," she paused before admitting the part she found most shameful. "I'd secretly get it out and admire it like some lovesick teenager. Gosh, you must think me such a fool."
"No," Ron answered quite seriously, stopping to look at her. "I don't think you're a fool at all, I think love makes us do crazy things."
Closing her eyes with a sad smile, Rose nodded. "When Kate was ill, after Massie…" she paused unable to speak of the child's death. "I think I thought the whole thing some kind of divine retribution, so in an effort to purify myself I threw the button into the fire." Rose rolled her eyes at her own foolish superstition, even as she felt it rise in her again. "This was before I accepted I was a lost cause of course."
Ron could only look at her with sad eyes that knew the pain of her defeat.
"I start back at the school again tomorrow," Rose had informed Ron the morning after New Year's Day. "The children are always so unruly after Christmas break, I'm not looking forward to it."
"You'll be there all day?" he asked. Rose nodded. "Would I be able to come and see you? Of course I'd understand if it's too difficult…"
"It's not too difficult," Rose shook her head. "I'd think it'd be fine. If anyone asks, we could say we're planning something else for the children. You could come and see me at lunchtime, when all the children are out of the classroom on their break."
So the next day, after a predictably hectic morning in the classroom, Rose awaited Ron's arrival.
Despite the chilly temperature inside the schoolhouse, Rose dared to slip off her woollen coat, revealing her fitted burgundy floral dress and neatly buttoned navy cardigan. Taking a small hand mirror from her desk, Rose applied the dusty rose shade of lipstick she'd slipped into her handbag before leaving that morning. It was foolish she knew, Ron had seen her so many times without a scrap of makeup, but meeting him here held more formality; it said, 'Yes, I am having an affair, and this man does make me feel attractive and desired'.
There was another reason too for the extra attention she'd decided to pay to her appearance; Rose wanted, in some small external way, to show Ron how important he was to her, and that not only did he make her feel desirable, but also that she wished for him to desire her. This need was in no small part fuelled by actions from the previous night Rose felt bound to inform him of.
Hearing a light knock on the door, Rose's stomach flipped in anticipation as she called enter.
Entering, Captain Dreyfuss removed his hat and placed it under his arm before he closed the door behind him. "Mrs. Coyne," he acknowledged Rose flirtatiously.
"Captain Dreyfuss," Rose batted back as he tentatively closed the distance between them.
"Are we…?" Ron trailed off motioning to the partially frosted glass panes that surrounded the classroom door.
"Yes," Rose said. "Master Corey will be outside watching the children until the bell rings."
Smiling, Ron stepped nearer to Rose, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Can I kiss you?" he asked tentatively.
"Oh God yes," Rose beamed.
As Ron placed his mouth on hers, Rose felt herself forgetting that they were standing in the school house, immersed in the wonderful experience of being so intimate with him. As they continued to kiss, Ron's hand moved to caress her face, while Rose's fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of his neck.
Separating breathlessly, they smiled at each other.
"You look tired," Ron said with concern as he brushed his fingers over her cheek, noting that despite her bright demeanour, Rose had dark circles beneath her eyes.
"It's been a frantic morning," she tried to explain, but Ron's furrowed brow told her he knew there was something more. "I haven't been sleeping too well I suppose, what with one thing and the other…"
Although Rose wasn't specific, Ron knew she was referring to the strain and worry their relationship must've been causing her.
"And," Rose braced herself, "I feel like I should tell you… I slept with Michael last night." Ron said nothing, swallowing hard in response. "I didn't know what else to do… It felt like a betrayal, but then he's my husband..." Rose tearfully brought her hand to her mouth. "Gosh, it's all such a dreadful mess."
"Shush," Ron whispered into Rose's hair as he embraced her, her head tucking under the crook of his chin. "It's OK. I just wish I could just make everything better for you. You don't deserve this...mess. Sometimes it feels like all I'm doing is causing you pain and heartache, and I hate myself for it."
"You can't think that," Rose said as she separated from his embrace to face him. "It may not be perfect, but I love you, and that's something I treasure, no matter the circumstances around us."
Ron sighed in defeat. "I just...I don't ever want you to hate me Rose."
"I could never hate you," she frowned shaking her head, before her expression softened. "Even when I thought you'd cut me dead, I was angry and hurt, but I couldn't stop loving you, no matter how much I wished it."
"And God help me, I can't stop loving you," he said as he leaned in and placed a brief kiss to Rose's lips, her eyes momentarily fluttering shut as any signs of concern washed away. "Rose, I've been thinking, would you be able to get away, for the weekend maybe? You could say you're visiting your sister..."
Rose hesitated. "I think so, yes."
"I thought we could go away together, stay at a guest house? Scotland maybe. I could get a couple of days leave..."
Rose found herself surprisingly lost for words. While she had known that their relationship would inevitably advance to a more physical level, the thought of it being imminent frightened her. There would be no going back after that, she'd truly be an adulterous woman. Sensing her anxiety, Ron was quick to ease her.
"Rose, I don't want you to think I'm expecting...anything. I'd never pressure you, you have to believe me."
"I do," she answered sincerely. Rose has no doubts about that, he'd always respected her boundaries.
"I just want to be able to spend some time with you, really spend some time, without having to look over my shoulder."
"I'd like that too."
"I don't expect an answer now, I know things are difficult, but if you could think about it?"
"I will," she nodded. "Thank you for being so patient with...this." Rose felt warmed by the level of deference he showed to her. "I'm sure there are any number of single girls interested in you who don't have all this bother attached to them."
"They may not have such 'bother'," Ron replied lightly before his tone grew more serious in nature, his hand touching Rose's face. "But they're missing one important thing: they're not you."
They gazed at each other silently for a moment, the noise of the school bell breaking their reverie.
"You should go," Rose whispered urgently pressing her lips to Ron's.
"7:00 am, at our spot?" he asked as he turned to open the door.
"Yes," Rose answered hurriedly, feeling a secret delight that the place they met on the shore was now 'their spot' as Ron had put it.
Finding herself distracted for the rest of the school day with thoughts of Ron's proposal of a getaway, Rose found herself making more than one error on the blackboard.
As Rose pondered, she couldn't escape the of words of a certain Whittier poem from coming into her head.
"For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: 'It might have been!'"
Rose knew she couldn't walk away from this, she had to take the next step with Ron lest she look back years down the line and wonder what they could have had. Even if it all ended in a terrible mess, at least she wouldn't have to live with the aching regret of never knowing.
So it was by the end of the school day she was decided: she would tell Michael she was visiting Vera, and she would go with Ron. The thought both terrified and thrilled her in equal measure.
